Since the release of my album, I have had so many people congratulate me and say nice things about how proud they are of me or simply acknowledging the amount of work involved in releasing an album. It’s such a funny feeling to have that conversation over and over again because it’s not like we’re sitting around a table, chatting about a meal that we’ve all just enjoyed. Having people engage with my album is not very tangible in the sense that I am not a part of their experience listening to my album. When they chat with me about it, it’s not while either of us are listening to the music or experiencingits effects or even staring at the .wav files. It’s such a strange, disconnected experience. When referring to “my album” it’s like referring to some hypothetical, cloud of a product that’s somewhere, ambiguouslyout there. Making it seem as if people are congratulating me on an idea that has no matter and fills no firm place in time.

The strangest feeling is the sense of it being a “finished” but “just begun” kind of product. I’m done my work – it’s out there, ready for listeners to consume, But I cannot say when or if anyone will consume it, so it’s still very much in process in terms of its ability to influence or have value to anyone but myself.

No physical CD copies exist, I have received no payment for any downloads, no iTunes ratings, no Grammy, no record deal, no Q interview. It has yet to produce fruit. So far, it just exists… At the end of an iTunes search. Attached to a handwritten download code. Paused in time, waiting for someone to hit that little play button on their keyboard and bring it into reality… waiting for someone to give it space and time.

I can feel, at the back of my little creative heart, a rising plea that someone would just: “let me out; allow me to exist”.

And it’s got me thinking about when things come alive. What else is standing still in the universe, waiting for someone to press play?